


Call Carter

by SophieHatter



Series: 100 Kinks [5]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: #29 In the Bath/Shower, 100 kinks, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:53:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieHatter/pseuds/SophieHatter
Summary: 100 Kinks: 29. In the bath/showerAnd she’d been hoping a long time to see this, to be in his inner sanctum, to be standing here, with him, wet.





	Call Carter

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr ask from [AgentKalGibbs](../../users/AgentKalGibbs/pseuds/AgentKalGibbs)
> 
> “No, I’m supposed to be making _you_ feel good.”

When he called her and asked her to come quickly, this wasn’t what she had expected.

Okay, it _was_ what she’d expected, but it wasn’t what she’d _hoped_.

And she’d been hoping a long time to see this, to be in his inner sanctum, to be standing here, with him, wet.

Except - they both still had their clothes on and they were wet from the retained water in the pipes in addition to being dusty, dirty and with verdigris staining her fingers and smudged on his cheek from the copper pipes.

With a grunt, she pulled on the wrench, tightening the bolt in its last turn. “Well,” she said as she stepped out of Jack’s shower cubicle, “I guess there’s just one thing for it. Time to turn the mains water back on.”

“Smart of you,” Jack grins, trying to make her smile because her annoyance at him is palpable, “To think of turning the water off at the mains.”

Sam wipes her wet, green fingers over the back of her cut off denim shorts. “What’s the golden rule, Sir?”

“‘Work smarter: call Carter’,” he mumbles, managing to look contrite.

Rolling her eyes, Sam gestures with the wrench. “Right. So go turn on the water and we’ll see if we - meaning I - fixed it.”

Jack does a smart ass little parade square for her and then disappears. Goddamn him for calling her and sounding so needy. Goddamn her hopes and imagination for putting her with him, in here, doing things that they weren’t supposed to do.

She heard the patio screen slide shut and reached for the tap handle, letting the water gurgle and spurt and then flow. Leaving it on to run out the last of the air, she turns to see him standing in the bathroom doorway.

“Fixed,” Jack smiles sheepishly at her. “I owe you one.”

“You owe me double,” she tells him immediately. “Because it’s Sunday.” She reaches in to the shower and turns the water off.

“Breakfast?” He suggests hopefully.

Sam’s stomach grumbles in response. She’d been so eager to get here to answer his early morning distress call that she had thrown on her clothes and come immediately, without thinking about breakfast.

“Waffles and hash browns at Frannie’s,” she asks.

“Okay.” The little shrug of his shoulder, the way his mouth hitches up in the corner softens her towards him and he knows it. Jack steps into the bathroom, closer to her and mumbles, “There’s just one thing ...” placing his hand on her hip, he smooths over the worn denim, turning her so that her behind is visible in the mirror.

Sam’s eyes follow his and she twists her head to see. Jack’s fingers caress the green marks that were left on her behind when she wiped her hands on her ass.

“Crap.”

Jack steps up closer behind her, fingers of his other hand brushing the line of her jaw, turning her face towards him. “That’s not all,” he tells her softly, in a voice that immediately engages her frustrated imagination. Jack licks the pad of his thumb, Sam’s eyes fixed on his lips, and then rubs it slowly along her jaw. When her skin is clean to his satisfaction, he leans down, pressing his lips to her.

Aroused, frustrated, annoyed, superior and back to aroused. Her morning has been quite the roller coaster of emotions and it’s not even 0800, yet. Jack’s hand pulls her into him, his lips gliding to the corner of her jaw where his tongue circles on her skin. “Jack.” His name escapes her lips saying the things that are racing through her mind - want, need, uncertainty, fear.

Jack stops, pulling his lips back from her skin, still crowding her against the vanity. His hands rest on her shoulder and her behind. “Carter?” His confusion tears at her and she turns her eyes to meet his and she sees the realisation hit him. “Sam?”

The way he whispers her name, full of loss and longing, makes her want to kiss him and move against him until any question that she wants him is banished forever. “I’m here,” she tells him, instead.

“In my bathroom.”

“Yes.”

“You fixed my shower.”

“Yes,” she answers, wondering if he hit his head when he went out to turn the water back on.

“I wanted you to come over, to be here,” Jack tells her.

“So you broke your shower?” Sam asks, thinking it both sweet and deranged if he did.

“No. Well, not on purpose. You see, I was,” and he pushes his hips against her and she feels his arousal, “And so I was in the shower. And then I slipped. And grabbed the shower head ...”

“Oh,” Sam replies. And then what he was doing in his shower to cause him to slip becomes clear to her. “ _Oh_. So you called _me_?”

“Couldn’t exactly call Danny, could I? He doesn’t know which end of the wrench to use.”

“No,” and Sam grins at the picture of Daniel trying to fix Jack’s shower, of Daniel standing where she is now, Jack palming his ass and cleaning his cheek. Her thoughts come back to the present, Jack’s hands are actually on her and she needs to know, “Is this a good idea?”

“You tell me. No, and we go and get waffles and hash browns. Yes, and we kiss and ... “ Jack trails off, leaning back, increasing the distance between them as much as he can without letting her go.

“And we kiss and get waffles and hash browns?” She suggests.

“You really are hungry, aren’t you?”

“You called me at 0700 with an emergency. I didn’t stop to eat.”

“Okay,” Jack says and begins to turn away, sliding his hand across her hip. She grabs it, pulling him back into her.

“Yes,” Sam tells him and then she’s reaching for him, hand in his hair, pulling him down to her lips and then his mouth is over hers and he’s pressing her back into the sink. She opens to him, hungry, not for waffles and hash browns, but for him, tasting him, tongue delving into his mouth, her fingers tightening in his hair, her hand sliding under his shirt and fingernails scraping at his spine.

Scrabbling at her waist, one of Jack’s hands finds its way under her shirt, glissing over her skin, cupping her breast and thumb circling her nipple, making it stand up through her bra. His other hand slides into the rear of her shorts, his long fingers worming their way deep until he’s got a handful of flesh, his fingertips ghosting at her crease and gripping her tightly, pulling her into him.

The feel of his hands on her has her moaning and then Jack’s mouth is at her jaw, her ear, her throat and he’s kissing and biting at her skin. A part of her observes that he is just as hungry as she is, probably because any relief he might have given himself this morning was interrupted. And then he called her. To come over. To help with his emergency. That thought makes her smile.

“You know what I thought when you called me?” She asks him, his thumb working its way into the cup of her bra, the rough skin dragging across her nipple and making her underwear even wetter.

“Mmhmm?” He asks, lips still attached to her skin as he pushes aside the neck of her shirt and sucks on her collarbone.

Sam presses her breast into his hand, her nails digging into skin at the small of his back, “Don’t stop,” she whispers, before licking her lips and going on. “That you were pretending to need your shower fixed - oh god - to get me over here.”

That makes his explorations pause and Jack pulls back slightly. Sam sees that his lips are flushed as are his cheeks and she rolls her hips into his.

“What was I going to do with you when you got here?” He asks.

“This. But ...”

“But?” He prompts.

“In the shower.”

Jack’s eyes widen and suddenly he’s stepping away from her and her stomach rolls over at the thought that she has said, or done, something wrong. Then he’s pulling his shirt over his head and reaching for hers and their clothes make a pile on the bathroom floor until he’s just wearing his boxers and she’s in her comfy, casual, cotton knickers.

Holding her hand, because he just can’t stop touching her, he reaches and turns the shower back on, adjusting the mixer until the steam rises around them.

“Like this?” Jack asks her and his hands caress the waist of her underwear, the lightest of downwards pressure on the garment.

“Yes.” And they’re grasping at the other’s underwear and kicking it aside as Jack backs into the shower, hands glued to her hips so that she has to reach to pull the door closed behind them.

The water cascades over them both as his mouth finds hers again and he’s inside her, tongue thrusting and when Sam sucks at it he groans.

When she reaches for him and wraps her hand around his cock he whimpers and then one hand is on her shoulder, pressing her back against the cold tile, his other sliding over her curls and his finger exploring her. Sam widens her stance and he easily slides two fingers inside her and the groan she gives him comes from her toes.

“That,” Jack mumbles, “I live for that sound.” He leans down enough that he can thrust his fingers into her, she’s so aroused and wet that his fingers slide into her easily.

Sam’s head falls back as the mad strokes of his fingers make her vision blur and her head thuds into the tiles.

Immediately, Jack stops, “Shit. Sam, are you ok?” He cradles her groin, supporting her, his other hand reaching to cup her head where it hit the tiles.

“Yes, yes,” she hisses through the pain, letting him gentle her scalp. “I just ... Jack, please.” Sam’s hand tightens on his cock and she’s stroking him again, her hand twisting when she reaches his head before returning to his base.

“I don’t think ... I can ... my knees ...” Jack tried to explain.

“Easy,” she tells him and turns, leaning her forearms against the wall at the height of her breasts and straightening her spine in a slope towards him.

“Like this?” He wonders, briefly surprised that she wants the first time to be with her back to him. Placing his hand on her lower back, he slides upwards over her skin, the warm water running between and over his fingers where it hits her back.

“Like this. Jack. _Please_. I need you _now_.” With a throaty whimper, Sam thrusts her hips back toward him.

His eyes go willing to her shapely six that he has thought about so often, wanted to feel under his palms. Suddenly he is swamped with emotion - want, heat, lust, wonder, love - and his hands shake with overloaded sensations.

Jack slowly eases down behind her and Sam feels his stubble rasp over the sensitive skin of her ass, already reddening from the heat of the water. When he kisses her opening it is like an electric shock goes through her and she moans, long and low. Leading with a finger between her lips, he strokes through her folds, his tongue following, until his finger slows, circling her clit, while he laps and licks at her opening, tasting her fluids and drinking down the trickles of water that have run down her skin.

Her head resting on her forearms, Sam is panting for breath as Jack’s tongue so thoroughly tastes her. His name is her litany and she chants it between breaths - or breathes between chants. “Jack, jack, jack, jack - oh god - Jack, Jack - stop, stop, stop,” she begs.

Reigning himself in, he lifts his mouth from her, “Sam?”

“Too close. I want you ... inside me ... with me ... when we come.”

“This isn’t good?” Jack asks, confused. Later he will blame the lack of oxygen.

“No! Yes! Yes, it’s good but I’m supposed to be making you feel good, too.”

“Believe me, Sam, this _is_ good,” he says emphatically.

In her head she curses the time they’ve had to wait, the way they’ve avoided talking about anything together that might be about pleasure, intimate likes, dislikes. She struggles to find words that will help him understand that she needs to feel connected to him, this first time, that they are together in this.

“Good, yes,” she agrees, “But better if we’re together.”

There is a momentary pause and she wishes that she could see his face. And then he kisses one rounded cheek in front of of him and then the other. Carefully, hand braced on her for support, he stands and then she feels him, his hardness, brush against her centre.

“Better,” she sighs in relief and then his hand is on her hip, the other leaning against the wall beside her head. Jack eases into her with a moan so primal her muscles clench in response. “Better,” she says louder as he settles his full length in her, his hips pressing into her ass.

Hips still, he leans over her and she feels his teeth on her shoulder and his hand running up her back, pressing into her skin. After squeezing her shoulder, he finds her breast and toys with her nipple, roughing it, tugging, squeezing until her back arches and she’s grinding herself on him.

“Better?” Jack asks her.

“Don’t stop,” she begs and so he continues with teeth and fingers, pressing hard into her, her rocking hard into him, until she’s panting.

“Now, Jack. So close. Come with me.”

No more encouragement is needed and he digs his fingers into her breast and slides almost out of her, before pushing back in. He’s building a rhythm and suddenly she’s touching him where they meet, her fingers on him as he slides in and out of her and - oh god - that she wants to feel him taking her, entering her sets him shaking and then he’s fighting his own climax.

“Sam, I’m going to ...” and before he can get the sentence out she’s replying.

“I’m ready ... come with me.”

With those words he’s surging in to her and she’s clenching around him, her hand over her nub so she bounces her clit against it as they both ride out the shakes of their orgasm. Trying to redistribute his weight, Jack puts both hands on the wall by her head and, as she’s still trying to catch her breath, her legs begin to shake.

Sam feels herself pulled upright. Muscles seized from her long held position and numb spots begin to return to life as Jack redirects the water to cascade over her body. Softening, he falls from her and she feels the loss of him deep in her soul, but his hands are there, supporting her, his body cushioning her and the warm water runs down her body as his rough hands so so gently wash her clean.

Jack urges her to turn and his arm is there to hold her, the water running over her back, his front and then he’s turning it off and opening the shower door.

As he hands her a towel, she’s beginning to come back to herself and she pulls it around her naked body protectively. He knows, though, without even looking at her, what she is thinking and, a towel around his own waist, he’s cupping her face and turning her to kiss him and it’s sweet and soft and reassuring.

“Are you still hungry?” He asks, forehead touching hers. She nods.

“Let’s eat, then, and we can work out what happens next.”

“Next?” Sam questions, still attempting to regain her equilibrium after being so far gone.

“I want every Sunday morning with you,” and Jack kisses her again, “Even if I have to break something every time to get you here.”

“That might get expensive,” Sam replies.

“Worth it.” His arms around her, Jack tucks his nose into her neck and can’t find the strength to pull away, not just yet, when holding her like this - naked and wet and soft from what he’s done to her - is still so new.

“Or you could call Daniel,” she suggests and his growling laugh against her neck tickles. “Okay, okay,” Sam concedes, trying to sound put upon. “I suppose I can ride in and rescue you most Sundays.”

“The other ones?” Jack asks, lips still on her skin.

“You’ll have to find other wily ways to entice me.”

“Work smarter ...” Jack trails off.

“That’s it, fly boy. Call Carter.”

“Do I call you before or after I break the thing?” Jack wonders.

“You already owe me two breakfasts,” she warns.

“Before, then,” he agrees, kissing her damp skin. “Waffles, hash browns ...” he murmurs as he slides away from her, looking for his discarded clothes.

Sam watches him walk away, the naked planes of his back holding her gaze. She’d tell him some other time that she’d come whenever he called and needed her for something. Anything. But then, he probably already knew.


End file.
